Just To Make Her Stronger
by Gabrielle MB
Summary: Relena has her candy pink dreams. Dorothy holds the key to their destruction. Oddity, shoujo ai DxR


Just To Make Her Stronger

Author: Gabrielle MoonBeam

Fandom: Gundam Wing (Sotsu, Sunrise and Bandai own it)

Archives: Mah page (http://www.angelfire.com/anime4/gabrielle_mb) and FF.net.

Warnings: Oddity, shoujo ai, shounen ai hints. (1+2) D+R 

Notes: Um, this hit me after reading a pile of some good GW fanfics portraying Relena as an airhead or something. Dunno why that inspired this, but anyway... My muse and I are really going to have to talk about these strange times and places she gives me inspiration. (*ogles sentence* Sorry if that's muddled, but I'm too tired to type English right now...)

------------------

Do you love him, Relena?

Do you adore the very earth he stands upon?

Do you love him with all your heart?

Dorothy smiles at her thoughts, the motion a little twist of hate and pity. Something challenging flashes in her eyes, lights up the steel of ice-blue. 

Relena is sitting in her nice and comfy chair, watching over her paperwork like a lithe little mother, like a hen, like a woman with a dear, dear child.

And Dorothy is there with her, in the void of the dull office, sitting with her feet crossed and hands laying in her lap. 

Fingers play with the twists of fabric, tugging at it, twisting, twisting. Relena sees nothing of Dorothy's actions for she is far away in a pink candy dreamland full of love and princes with their princesses.

Dorothy's smile is still so bitter and still so calculative as she reaches into a smooth pocket of her velvet dress the shade of midnight blue. Dorothy's pale fingers touch the corner of a letter, brushing against it, rubbing it like she would the skin of her dearest lover. 

Relena's arm moves, her tapered fingers coiled around a pen, a ballpoint pen with little silver carvings upon its candy pink surface. She scritches her name on one pristine paper with little holes in it, the slants and curves so feminine and so dreamy. 

Dorothy pulls out the letter from the folds of her dress, staring dreamily at the creamy envelope, at the black, simple ink upon it. The lone word is so beautiful, written with precise movements. 

'Relena'

It's what reads on the envelope, it's the name of the letters recipient.

Dorothy plays with the letter just a little while more, wanting, wanting so desperately to burn this moment into her memory forever. This moment of absolute calmness, the one before the storm of tears and hatred.

Relena glances up from her paper, from her little, petite dreamland, gazing at the other girl with the bitter smile and cold, cold eyes. Her eyes touch, caress the creamy, oh so peachy creamy envelope with a lingering caress, and she moves in her chair, impatient to wait for Dorothy to speak up.

"Dorothy. What's that?"

The other girl looks up, the twinkle in her eyes a little less steely, a little less ice and more like humour and pity. Yes, Relena can see the pity, can see it like a bird in the sky. 

Dorothy smiles, a faked gentle smile and speaks with a voice meant to flatter, meant to coat the words with sugar and toxins.

"It's a letter to you, Relena-sama."

Relena's eyes light up, the glint in them the soft and fragile glass of innocence, the glossy surface of childhood and immaturity. Her fingers twitch upon the tabletop, lacquered nails shooting off pink light, pink, so pink to Dorothy's eyes. 

Dorothy hands over the letter, watching Relena carefully. 

Relena's whole being is fixed on that letter, on that piece of paper like it's the last nourishment she'll ever receive, like it's the last piece of Heaven before she must enter Hell. 

And in a way, it is just that.

Dorothy watches, watches with rabid interest as the blonde girl opens the letter, as her fingers bend and curve around the letter-knife. 

Dorothy watches the pink, pink, pink nails, watches the rhythmic tapping of fingers become shaking, watches as those reminders of cotton candy are shielded within strong, fragile, pale, pale, pale hands. 

Watches as tears splatter against white and milky hands, blotching everything with their salt water. Dorothy watches the water run down the backs of Relena's hands, she listens to the small sobs of heartbreak within Relena's throat.

The letter flutters to the floor, by Dorothy's feet and she gives it a small glance before smiling a little maliciously. 

Dorothy's agile body straightens itself from the embrace of her comfy chair, and her whole posture leans towards the sobbing girl.

"Finally you see what is so apparent, Relena-sama."

Relena's cornflower blue eyes are clouded over by tears, tears of see-through water and innocence. Her hands come up to cover the beauty of the agony in those eyes, those eyes and all Dorothy can see is the pain. 

"Come now, Relena-sama. You can't be that blind."

Relena shakes her head, a little expression of guiltiness, blonde strands of hair whispering against milky palms and backs of hands. 

Dorothy walks around the table, leaning close, close to Relena and she whispers to her, whispers something so simple it halts everything. 

"He was never yours, Relena-sama. While you treated him as a toy, as an icon to look up to, *he* saw what was really there and took advantage of it."

Relena's breaths are the only sound in the room now, little gasps for air, little gasps to reach sanity again and find those damned rose tinted glasses. 

But Dorothy is there, touching, touching her clenched hands and pulling them off her face. 

"Tsk, tsk, Relena-sama. Look at all the beautiful, beautiful blood upon your skin."

And Dorothy is right, for there are small tracks of blood and crimson upon Relena's skin, bleeding from tiny cuts of nails, of lacquered nails engraved into her palms. 

A pink, pink, candy pink tongue slips out and touches the cuts, flicks over them in an innocent little gesture. Dorothy's ice-blue eyes never leave Relena's tear-filled once, her curved ears drinking in every little hitch in Relena's breathing.

"Yes, that's more like it... You'll forget him in time, you'll let him be happy because you're the good girl, you're the one everybody writes songs of, you're the one to outwit the hideous witch without the help of your prince."

Relena listens, listens to words sweet as saccharine, sweet as honey and candy and all she's ever wanted is candy and sugar and the sweet taste of love. But Dorothy offers her empty words, offers a cold heart with no sugar, just some bittersweet taste that will haunt you for weeks after a small sip.

But is there not any beauty in Dorothy's coldness? 

Is there no warmth in this creature that worships the blood and innocents of war?

Isn't there any sugar left upon her tongue?

And suddenly, it's all Relena can think about. It's the only thing her heart and her mind can latch on to, the only thing to soothe the scars and wounds in her consciousness, in her being. 

Dorothy tilts Relena's head back a little, just a little, and allows her eyes to soften, if only for the sake of the fragile Queen in her arms. 

Relena needs it, needs it like air, needs it like love and needs it like a drug you've been addicted to for far too long. 

Dorothy's eyes close, a single tear escaping and rolling down one cheek. It's the single thing she can offer Relena.

And Relena takes it, touches it with wondering eyes and fingers and lips and time stops flowing.

Dorothy is all she can think about, all she can taste and feel. 

And Dorothy vows to break her heart someday. 

Just to make her stronger.

-------------------------


End file.
